


sunset

by zenexit



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Cooking, Bedside Care, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Father Figures, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Introspection, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Nursing, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Romantic Fluff, Sad with a Happy Ending, Some Humor, Spoilers, Unresolved Romantic Tension, m/m/f, rdr2 secret cupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenexit/pseuds/zenexit
Summary: Arthur survives a scrape with Micah with severe injuries. John and Abigail take care of him.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/Arthur Morgan, Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston/Arthur Morgan, John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	sunset

**Author's Note:**

> hello all! this is my submisison for nattravn-stuff over on tumblr for rdr2 secret cupid! thought it was a cute project and super happy i got to write some soft polyship stuff!
> 
> hope you like it <3

Arthur sat up in the bed, a groggy sense of heat clinging to him. The kind that made his whole body feel clammy while he slept. Over his chest sat a large bandage, where he had been shot a few days prior by Micah. It had not been in the heart, or any organs, blessed by some unknown grade of god he had never known.

Looking out the window in the small room Arthur had been sleeping in, he could see the lights on the horizon getting low. Reds and pinks mixing together in gentle swirls as the sky began its heavenly descent. There was a tiredness to Arthur’s bones that he had been fighting for months, but wanted to give into so badly. During the time leading up to the final showdown with Micah and Dutch, Arthur was sure he wasn’t going to get out of all of this alive. There was just a sinking feeling deep in his chest, down into the very depths of his bones, that had filled him with dread. A disease like feeling, that Arthur didn’t deserve to get out of all of this alive. Like the best way he could save his soul, or any of those that mattered to him, was to let it all go from his hands. To sacrifice himself on that mountain, to do whatever it took to get John and Abigail, and their family, out of there. 

It was in those moments, watching a sunset not that different from the one Arthur could see right now, that Arthur had let his eyes lower and drop, feeling suns fading light for what he thought would be the last time while clutching bullet wounds he had expected to kill him.

In the end though, it had been more than that. Another had come to the mountain and pulled Arthur off, a desperate John who had learned from a young age never to give up a breath would be the last. A choking noose might feel final, but there could always be one last saving bullet. 

He might not feel worthy in any sort of way, but Arthur had little choice aside from laying there watching that sunset. He could hear faint sounds past the thick wood door that separated Arthur from the rest of the house. It was Abigail in the kitchen, and Arthur could make out the lightest notes of her humming to herself as she worked. He closed his eyes for a moment then, trying to let the moment sink in. This divine world that felt like sunlight on gently blown grass, the kind he never thought himself worthy of. 

John had taken his horse out to go hunting that day, and was now showing Jack outside how to brush him out properly. How to desaddle a horse and clean its hooves, moving over the belts and brushes with his son carefully. Arthur knew after dinner it would be time for Abigail and John to settle Jack into bed, and Arthur cursed himself every night he was just adding another burden on the two of them. Even times like now, where Abigail was singing to herself with a heart full of love, and John was finally learning to show how he really felt towards his son, Arthur couldn’t help the weight on his chest. The guilt that said it was his job as a man and a human to do something for these people, to help make their lives easier. 

A soft but confident knock on the door preceded Abigail opening it a crack and looking in on Arthur before smiling all the way up to her eyes. Arthur had never appreciated the freckles that went across her face until he had spent more time with Miss Roberts in the past few days, her loving hands helping him as best they could. 

“Arthur, are you ready to eat?” Abigail asked, a bowl of stew in her hand. 

Arthur forced a smile on his face. Or, attempted to. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Abigail. In fact, two of the biggest lights in this entire thing had been her and John. Of course, Jack too, but there was something different in the air between the three of them. Something that felt a little bit more charged than before. 

As far as the world knew, Arthur Morgan had died on the mountain. He had bled to death in his weakened state from the injuries he had sustained from Micah. Revenge was a fools game, and John had taken to running with his family instead, leaving this life behind. The world didn’t need to know about Abigail and Jack hudding next to Arthur in the back of a cart, a large cover draped over the two of them while John rode like hell itself was chasing them. Maybe it was, maybe those licks of guilt and shame and death that Arthur felt around the corners of his mind so clearly, had been the kind only a fool like Marston could run from and manage to get away. Hands in his pockets with hard stolen treasures, in this case a family he had never known he needed, with Arthur a man who had never known how to say how much he wanted.

“I could eat.” Arthur said plainly, and tried to sit up before groaning. Pain moved through his body and Abigail sighed loudly while shaking her head.

“You gotta stop doin’ that, Arthur, you know you’re gonna tear your stitches out.” Abigail pulled the wood chair in the room closer to the bed and neatly laid the bowl and spoon in her lap and began to feed Arthur.

Arthur reluctantly sipped on the stew after Abigail would blow gently on it. Miss Roberts made him miss Pearson’s cooking. She wasn’t bad at it exactly, and she put her whole heart into it, but… She wasn’t exactly good. Arthur knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth though, and didn’t complain. He was man enough to admit he never wanted to be on the bad side of Abigail’s anger, especially when she was trying and working so hard to nurse him back to health. 

Hell, even John had been trying. He had come in twice a day to help Arthur up and out of the house out back. For Arthur to take care of his business, and to give him a chance to sit in the wild he cared so much for. Jack had brought coloring equipment to Arthur’s side, and asked him to draw with him. Something that had helped the long hours of the day where Arthur could keep his eyes open go faster. 

There was something so nice about being part of this family, Arthur didn’t think he deserved it, but he couldn’t help but secretly long for the chance to stay. For him to get well on his feet and get to ride with John, bringing home large game they could bicker about who had caught better while Abigail would laugh and tell them to help strip it for dinner. Arthur wanted to teach Jack more, to help the hole in his heart feel a little bit lighter from all the times he had been aching for something just like a son to fill. Arthur wanted to laugh at John and his attempts to dance with Abigail, to try to show them both up when requested, and then be even worse. Arthur wanted to succumb to that Marston charm that everyone fell for so easily, and count stars with him at night once more. He wanted to stand behind Abigail and help her slice vegetables and just get to take in every part of her, and appreciate something in this world that didn’t smell like an outhouse. Arthur knew it was selfish, but he wanted to feel what it would be like to be tucked up between the two of them while he slept. How it would be to have both John and Abigail under his arms, while staring up at a night sky free of society’s touches. 

Getting to the last of the stew, Abigail scraped the bowl getting the last bits to offer Arthur who humbly ate it. She smiled at him again, in a way that made his heart feel light. The kind of smile that could make a man forget about his guilt, his shame and loss, and just get lost in the moment of. 

“Was it good this time?” Abigail asked, looking quite pleased with herself.

“Yes ma'am, it always is.” Arthur said with a small laugh that only made his body ache a little. “Thank you for doing all this for me.”

Abigail rolled her eyes as she stood. She put the bowl on the chair for a moment and began to straighten her dress, pressing down the folds and wrinkles that were on her skirt.

“Arthur, you know it’s not a problem. John and I are happy to do this for you.” Abigail leaned over then and pressed a soft kiss to Arthur’s forehead, and he let his eyes flutter closed for a minute while his cheeks burned hot. 

Before Arthur could reply, Abigail continued.

“John and Jack will be inside soon, they want to eat dinner in here with you. I think Jack is excited to tell you everything about today. Is that alright with you?” Abigail fussed with Arthur’s hair for a moment, finger combing it away from his forehead.

Arthur looked into her eyes and smiled.

“Nothing would make me happier.”


End file.
